


Changes on the Wind

by PolarGrizz47



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Needles, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:58:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7312273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PolarGrizz47/pseuds/PolarGrizz47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time, Jack wasn’t able to hold back his howl of agony as the strange liquid flooded his system, scorching through his body like an ooze of lava.</p>
<p>If he had the use of his hands, he would’ve clawed at himself until he bleeds in a desperate attempt to get it out. It wasn’t right - something was wrong, his entire body was burning up from the inside out. It felt as if his insides were bubbling under the surface of his skin, aching to get out - to change - to escape.</p>
<p>[Talon changes Jack and not necessarily for the better.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changes on the Wind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Khogri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khogri/gifts).



> Kinda a collaboration with Reaps76? We wanted this idea written and such so... here we are!! :D  
> Unbeta'ed, per usual.

Jack sat uncomfortably with his hands cuffed behind his back, eyes searching about the darkness in the room they’d dragged him into. He felt vulnerable, his gear packed away under his bed and weapon in Winston’s lab.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

They’d won, they’d kept their heads down, and they’d _ won. _

Sure, it wasn’t perfect. They didn’t get the glory, the fame that came with being the saviors of humanity. But they weren’t heroes, they were  _ vigilantes. _

They’d given up their hero status the moment Overwatch had fallen and the Petras Act was put into place. It had been hard, but they’d made it. Fought against the rising omnic crisis, hoping to put an end to it and avoid even more bloodshed.

Throughout the journey, they’d accidentally dug up ghosts from the past.

The soldier smirked, testing the bonds holding his hands in place and grumbling as it bit into the bare skin of his wrists. Looking down at himself, he took the time to assess his situation. He’s bleeding, thigh crudely bandaged up to keep him from making too much of a mess. Both of his feet have been tied to the legs of the chair, another two other straps wrapped around his chest to hold him there tightly.

He had to give it to them, this time, they actually made an effort to keep him contained.

The strange dart that had managed to take him down certainly was still working through his system, the drugs making him a bit hazy as Jack shook his head from side to side.

People would notice that he went missing…  _ right? _ _   
_ Gabriel would notice. Reyes always noticed.

He’d notice the moment he walked into their little hidey hole…  _ whenever _ Gabriel got back from his current hunt, that is.

_ Shit. _

-:-

He’d lost track of time. Exhaustion kept him fading in and out. One moment he was getting dragged down the hallway, busted lip and a broken nose and the next he was waking up strapped into a new hellish environment. 

It was a table of sorts, cold metal biting into the exposed skin of his back, chest and arms. Small cuts were bleeding from when they’d literally tore his shirt off of him. Blue eyes squinted up at the lights overhead, his mind aching and mouth dry. He couldn’t have been out that long. Waiting wasn’t Talon’s style.

As if on cue, a door behind him opened. Jack fruitlessly tried to turn his head and look, but the leather fastened over his throat kept him from moving his head too much. Spread eagle, the soldier felt exposed, his hands bolted down to the strange table and each of his ankles mirroring the efforts. Across his abdomen and arms, he’d been strapped down with even more leather fastenings.

Jack would’ve laughed at the idiocy of it all. He looked like some goddamn horror movie victim for christ's sake, but when he saw the agents round the corner with a medical tray, filled with all sorts of sharp and painful goodies, he felt himself pale. 

Wetting his lips, the old soldier ground out, “I like what you did with the place,” A tug against his arms, skin bruising, “Real cozy.”

“Oh yes,” A purr from on of the masked agents agreed. “Very cozy. Secured.”

“Yeah, ‘bout that,” He grumbled, eyes strained to the side so he could see them moving in his peripheral, “You know you can’t keep  _ him _ out.”

The old soldier’s self-satisfied smirk fell as he watched one of the agents loom over him, the other handing off a thick, long needle to them. “Keep him out,” They started, testing the weight of the syringe in their gloved grasp. “That won’t be necessary.”

Jack couldn’t help it. Fear coiled inside of him once he caught sight of the volatile liquid bubbling inside of the syringe. It was clear, thick and gooey. It made the outside of the glass steam and the needle turn red-hot as they pushed a glob of it down the length of the middle. A drop of it harmlessly landed on his chest, making the soldier hiss with discomfort as the strange goo burned into him before fading into nothing. 

It was only when they pushed his head to the side, exposing his throat, that Jack really started to struggle. Uselessly he twisted and snarled, hands clawing at the metal as he stared hard into the unforgiving darkness of the agent’s helmet. As the needle loomed overhead, the nameless agents laughed and snarled, “We’re trying to keep  _ you _ in.”

Any fancy remark died on his tongue the moment the needle pierced his skin, pulse frantic as his skin stung and veins filled with a strange, painful sensation. When the syringe was empty and the needle yanked away, Jack writhed, eyes wide and teeth clenched as his frantic heart rate sent the strange concoction roaring through his veins. 

It hurt - it  _ consumed _ \- left him gasping and seeing dark spots in his vision as he desperately tried to calm himself.

_ It was fine, _ he told himself,  _ it’s probably just some dumbass poison. _

However, all his unbalanced tranquility vanished the moment he spotted another syringe, the agents cruelly forcing his neck to the side once more, exposing the vulnerable flesh of his throat as they lined up a different shot.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut trying to will it all away, trying to think of something better than this. The needle tore into his skin, making him bleed as they emptied out the syringe again. The pain was tenfold, his body boiling up inside, melting down - he was sure of it. Any minute now he’d start spewing blood from his mouth, his ears, maybe even his eyes if he was really unlucky.

Instead of melting down like some faulty reactor, Jack saw another needle looming over him. His vision blurred, his stomach rolled with nausea, his limbs ached and his heart was thundering. This time, he wasn’t able to hold back his  _ howl _ of agony as the strange liquid flooded his system, scorching through his body like an ooze of lava.

If Jack had the use of his hands, he would’ve clawed at himself until he  _ bleeds _ in a desperate attempt to  _ get it out.  _ It wasn’t right - something was  _ wrong, _ his entire body was burning up from the inside out. It felt as if his insides were bubbling under the surface of his skin, aching to get out - to change - to escape.

Instincts screamed at him, warned him that his body - enhanced or not - couldn’t handle whatever they were forcing into it.

Jack started to trash about, tightly held in place and only hurting himself more in the struggle as the agents watched, listened without another word. A camera recorded the process from outside, scientists and special agents of Talon alike all taking notes and comparing data. It was all fascinating to them - and it was literal agony for the soldier.

Uselessly he struggled, his movements growing sluggish as the concoction trickled throughout his entire body. His mind was falling away, vision blurring and breathing heavy. He was so very tired suddenly, but far too wired to actually fall into another state of sleep.

It was stinging less and less. Leaving his body feeling strangely numb, limbs tingling and fingers were swollen.

They picked up another syringe from their plate, and Jack shouted out helplessly into the white and bathing lights as a spike of energy from the syringe shot through him.

Make it stop -  _ make it stop! _

-:-

Gabriel looked down at the man, shotgun muzzle poking at the gory mess he’d made of the old Overwatch agent’s torso. They’d gone soft, he figured, smirking behind the mask as he lowered his weapon away.

Another agent off the list. He couldn’t keep himself from hunting them all down. Bitter and burned from the past. Their corruption had cost him dearly.

And they had to pay, one way or another.

It bothers him to think that this agent used to be _friends_ with Jesse, the cowboy whom Gabriel had taken in under his wing. The stubborn shit whom he’d gotten all tangled up in this mess. Reyes subtly thanks whatever hellish god must’ve been watching over them that McCree wasn’t there when the entire Swiss base came crashing down atop them. That Jesse had run and hid into the wildlands like the coyotes themselves.

Huffing, he rolls his shoulders back, leaving the body to rot there in the abandoned factory as he dissipates into a dark, dangerous mist. Reyes reforms outside of the factory, creeping away in the darkness easily, blending into the very shadows themselves.

However, Gabriel pauses as his communicator buzzes with an incoming call, the man’s brows raising in surprise as he places the device into his ear and accepts the call.  _ This better not be another international crisis, _ he thinks grumpily while he leans against the wall.

Instead of Winston’s scientific and professional voice, he’s greeted with Mercy’s panicked gasp of, “Gabe they took him.”

Reyes hates the fact that he immediately knows who  _ he _ is. Curses the fact that his heart lurches into his throat and his voice becomes breathless as he growls,  _ “Where?” _

**Author's Note:**

> Poor Jack ;w;  
> Gabe isn't happy. Hope to have this next chapter written soon. But I'm not liking my writing lately so I've been wrestling with that. *sigh* The next chapter will be more interesting heeh.
> 
> Please leave comments, they really are my lifeblood!


End file.
